Sing It Loud and Clear
by sidsaid
Summary: 'What is it with girls and stalking' is something that Michael Corner asks himself on many an occasion. Though, honestly, he's not one to ask. He's a completely useless hermit in the romance world.


Hi Roma. I lack the ability to write characters that I know too much about. Whoops. Hehehehehe. Anyway, I didn't want to write you a RP fic, because I always write those and I'd laugh too hard at jackiealbus, so let's go for romildamichael, which could turn out a mess ;) yep.

I can't even think of any minor characters, omg, I like only write next-gen. My life. So yes.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Years, Music Twinny. Or just New Years and Seasons Greetings…I don't know. Are you religious? I mean you could be Buddhist for all I know. I know you've been to Bar Mitzvahs and stuff /still jelly, but yeah…This got weird. Yup.

**MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR PEOPLES OF FF. **

* * *

And on and on from the moment I wake

To the moment I sleep

I'll be there by your side

Just you try and stop me

_Shiver - Coldplay_

**xxx**

**Sing It Loud and Clear**

* * *

Michael looked across the library, his knuckles straining as he clutched his quill. The end had splintered because of his actions and his parchment was dotted with black ink. He bit onto the end of his quill as he watched the bobbing of black curls belonging to Romilda Vane. She was talking with a blonde girl and Michael could hear the name 'Harry Potter' repeatedly. It irked him. Why was it she was so obsessed with Harry Potter? All he had was fame.

"You've got ink on your face, mate," Anthony mentioned as he peered over his book at Michael.

Michael rubbed at his face with the back of his hand and looked down at the mess that his Potions essay had become.

"Do you expect her to set on fire if you look at her long enough?" Terry asked from Michael's side, not looking up from writing. "Pyrokinesis isn't actually a thing."

He grimaced and glanced at Terry before looking back at Romilda. "Why does her whole existence revolve around Harry Potter?" he asked, rubbing his lips together and spreading the remaining ink across his lips. Michael frowned at the taste.

"Isn't that how stalkers work?" Anthony responded.

"I heard she's been brewing a love potion in her dorm," Terry said.

Michael chuckled, "she's definitely not smart enough for that."

Anthony put his book down on the table, "harsh, but true. You've turned rather sour towards her, why has some Gryffindor Fourth Year got you eating ink?"

"She hasn't got me doing anything. I just can't understand why she'd just throw her dignity out of the window like that."

Terry smiled and looked over at Romilda who was smiling brightly and talking loudly, despite them being in the library. "She doesn't look too upset about it."

"Idiot, girl," Michael stated.

Romilda had gotten up, piling her books up and tossing her curls over one shoulder. She turned, her eyes meeting with Michael's as she and her friend began towards the exit. When they had passed him, they both started to laugh, most likely at the ink covering Michael's face.

"You look like a prat, you realise that?" Terry stated.

Michael was glowering and started shoving his things into his bag, spilling his ink pot, causing Anthony to clean it up with his wand. He hurried out of the door, as if he were following after Romilda, who was still giggling far up ahead.

She turned around and her brow furrowed, her laughter stopping. Her and her friend hurried up and Michael continued after them. Well he wasn't following them, he just happened to be going towards the staircase and so were they.

Romilda had told her friend to go up ahead and had stopped before the entrance to a short cut. She stood by a tapestry of Rowena Ravenclaw and her hand was clutching her bag tightly, a look of derision on her features.

"What are you doing?" she asked Michael when he had continued past her, as if he were not interested in her at all.

She had turned when he had kept on going, though he stopped and looked back.

"Walking to my dorm," he replied, looking casual, though the remains of the ink stains on the corners of his mouth distracted from the effect.

She snorted, "Violet was telling me you were looking at us. What? You're interested? What happened to Ginny?"

Michael's mouth screwed into a grimace. Yes it was common knowledge that Ginny Weasley had dumped him at the end of the last year, but it didn't mean some Fourth Year could rub it in his face.

"In a Fourth Year with a complex?" he rolled his eyes, "you do really love yourself, don't you?"

She combed a hand through her curls, "as far as I'm concerned it's not a crime to take care of yourself. Maybe you should take a leaf out of my book. That hair is getting a bit out of hand, isn't it?" she gestured to his dark hair that was in need of a cut.

"How I look is irrelevant." He sighed, "maybe I have to put this into words you can understand. Can you not see that you lack any dignity?" he had spread the words out as if talking to a child.

Romilda didn't like that at all. She refrained from reaching out and slapping Michael, but just gave her best smile, though her eyes were all fire and hatred.

"I know what you're trying to do, I read this in Witch Weekly," she sighed, as if Michael were foolish and she were far above him. "I didn't think Ravenclaws would even go that far, are all you boys just incapable of saying how you feel?" she questioned.

Michael didn't understand and didn't want to, "can you not handle a coherent conversation?" he asked.

She sent a glare at him, "Ginny probably dumped you because you are incapable of having a _human_ conversation."

"At least I don't stalk Harry Potter," he countered, giving her a sympathetic look. "A love potion? Really? That's beyond idiotic."

Romilda clucked her tongue, "we'll see when he eats some of the Chocolate Cauldrons I gave him, won't we?

He laughed this time and shook his head, "how stupid are you? He isn't stupid enough to have fallen for that. Everyone heard what you tried to do about Slughorn's party a couple weeks ago, he probably knows to keep far away from you."

She glared at him, "what's your problem? Why are you getting into my business?"

"It's not like I want to, I can just constantly hear your name and it gets on my nerves. You irritate, frustrate and annoy me."

"Are you sure you're not stalking me?" she asked, grinning to herself. "Do I get under your skin, Michael Corner?" she questioned, and stepped toward him, a knowing smile on her face. She was facing him off, her dark eyes blinking up at him.

Michael backed up unconsciously, not realising he was holding his breath somewhat. "What are you doing?" He tried to be firm.

Romilda smiled, "nothing, I'm just standing here, minding my own business. Why? Am I bothering you? Am I frustrating you?" she asked.

His eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips. "Do you even know what you're doing?"

"Yes," she replied simply. He wasn't much more than a couple inches taller than her, so their proximity was close as Romilda stepped forward.

"I don't think you do," he responded and then he was walking towards her and she was walking backwards. "What do you know about me? Past my name?"

Romilda rubbed her lips together and she looked confused. "You're a Ravenclaw, you are responsible and…" she trailed off when she realised he wasn't going to stop and she was getting closer to being against the wall. She didn't like that, not when she was Romilda Vane – the bold, dramatic and proud Gryffindor, a Gryffindor who wasn't easily won over by a witty Ravenclaw.

Michael smiled, it was strangely warm. "It's never good to go into these things with all these stereotypical preconceptions. Because then what are you going to do when something like this happens?" he asked.

There was no chance for Romilda to respond, as they had reached the wall and Michael had pressed his ink stained lips against Romilda's. Her eyes fluttered, utterly confused and caught out, though Michael's were closed firmly, not wanting to see what he was doing, just realising that he had been wanting to do this for far too long. His hand went against the wall by Romilda's head as his lips pressed against hers.

It was at least a minute before Romilda reacted in a physical way. She grabbed onto his shoulders, thrusting her knee up and into Michael's crotch and watched as he fell to the ground, holding himself and unable to say anything.

Romilda ran off towards the staircases, wiping at her lips with her fingers and looking angry as she went.

Unfortunately for Romilda, Michael was kind enough to transfer the ink that covered his lips onto hers. It would have been fine if it weren't for Violet – the friend that she'd been with. Seeing the ink before Romilda could get rid of the evidence and knowing the ink belonged to Michael, she had told half of the school by dinner time.

As with what came naturally to Romilda, she promised herself that Michael wasn't going to get away with this.

* * *

**Now I realise there's a good reason I don't write trio-gen. Because these characters have pasts! Omg. He went out with Ginny and Cho, ugh, and I couldn't put him in seventh year, because Death Eaters O_O **

**Suppose I should finish this. Yep. Two-shot?**


End file.
